* * *
. It seems a simple Kerryman lived on a scenic stretch of road that was very popular with summer bicyclists. One afternoon, as he was tending his garden, he looked up to see an American biker, all done up in his expensive bicycle fripperies, leaning on the man’s fence and watching him work.
. “Whatcha doin’?”, asked the tourist.
. The farmer paused for a moment- leaning on his hoe to regard his guest. He thought it rather obvious. “I’m diggin’ my potatoes.”, he responded, bending over to pull up a nice sized tuber.
. The American scoffed: “You call those potatoes? Why in America, we grow potatoes as large as watermelons!”
. The farmer scratched his chin in contemplation. “Is that so?”, said the bemused Kerryman. “Well that suits you. In Ireland, we grow them just large enough to fit our mouths…”
This retelling of the story is © Kevin Paul Keelan and lastcre8iveiconoclast, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kevin Paul Keelan and lastcre8iveiconoclast with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.